Beneath the Mask
by Amadah
Summary: Katie Bell is a member of a secret club full of partying and drugs. It has impacted her life more then she knows. Can love bring her back and amend wounds from the past? KatieOliver.
1. Raining on Sunday

**Beneath the Mask,** by Amadah

**Katie** - age 21.

**Disclaimer**: -cries- Unfortunately Harry Potter and his friends are not mine, but J.K Rowling's. Not even Oliver. :( But you knew that already.

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**CHAPTER ONE: **Raining on Sunday

I parted the curtains to take a quick glance outside – still raining. Not that I really had to check when the sound of rain drops pattering upon my window was perfectly audible. I let out a sigh and allowed the curtains to fall back into place as I made my way to the small living room of my apartment, where I sunk into my squishy little couch. It was Sunday and tomorrow I would be returning to work. I hated how I always seemed to waste my free time, but I simply couldn't find anything useful – or even fun – to do. I looked miserably around the room and hated myself more; empty beer bottles seemed to litter the floor and a few half empty ones consumed the space of my tiny counter, along with numerous packs of cigarettes. My trash was overflowing and dirty dishes dating to almost a week ago still sat in my sink.

Disgusting. Yet I could never manage to summon enough will to get off my ass and do some work around here. I glanced at the simple digital clock – a gift from a Muggle relative – on the wall and saw that I must have slept in; it was almost noon. Wondering what time Doug must have left my bed and apartment, I was a bit shocked to see a 50 lying on the coffee table at me feet. I scowled at the money. So was I becoming a prostitute as well a drunk? I knew perfectly well that I most likely would never see his face again. A one-night stand, I guess. If possible, I sunk even deeper into the couch and closed my eyes. What the hell was wrong with me? There seemed to be a new man in my bed every other night, most which I never learned their names.

I was a whore. Simple as that. And I certainly wasn't proud of being known at a local club for getting my shag on. Well, it was my mask that was known for it actually.

The Corrupted were pretty much a secret – though it had plenty of members – society hidden away in Riverford where people could go and party any time they wanted, since it never closed. Everyone wore masks and rather then having their reputation attached to their face and name, it was the mask we used for that. If someone wanted to wear a different mask, no one would know who it was. Usually people stuck to just one though, including me. I was one among a rather large group of what we called Regulars; those who regularly came to the Den. The Den was the location where The Corrupted met to party and whatnot. I guess you could just call us a big group of sluts and druggies wasting time, but there were plenty of what we called Casuals: those who would come and drink only one beer, only dance with one partner. And as long as you knew how to be in one of these types of clubs, no one would get hurt, as it was a fairly dangerous place. No matter how seemingly innocent it appeared from the outside.

The Den was where I was headed now. Though I had to admit, it wasn't nearly as much fun in the daylight as it was during the dark hours of lovely night. Pushing myself up from the couch, I retrieved my mask from it's usual spot beneath a floor board – The Corrupted always encouraged the idea of hiding your mask, should you run into a bit of trouble with the Ministry. Riverford was a Wizarding city, but a lot of the same laws that applied to Muggles went for us as well. The Corrupted didn't want to chance being discovered due to the carelessness of it's members.

My mask was actually a bit simple compared to some of the highly elaborate ones people wore to the Den. It only covered the top portion of my face – leaving my nose, lips and chin exposed – and it was gold in color but also sported small, black feathery designs. The areas around the holes for my eyes were lined with white glitter, and protruding from the top of my mask was a bundle of long, black fluffy feathers. After setting it aside for the moment, I went into my closet and slid on a strapless dress. It was cream-colored, dusted with multicolor polka dots. A pink ribbon lined the waste of a shirred bodice and the dress wasn't too short, reaching me knees. I felt comfortable in it, thought it certainly wasn't your standard clubbing outfit; then again, The Corrupted wasn't as much a club as it was a, let's say, gathering of acquaintances. Then add the beer, the music, the masks...And there you have The Corrupted. The name itself was merely for fun.

After applying a modest layer of lipstick and having a quick round with the hairbrush, finally I fit the mask to my face. Briefly I inspected myself in the full length mirror that was hanging somewhat awry upon the spine of my bedroom door. My mask definitely clashed with my dress, and if I had been going anywhere but the Den, I would've cared. As it was, no one of The Corrupted gave a damn about clashing colors. If anything, they favored it.

Just then I heard a faint _pop _and instinctively ripped the mask from my face, tossed it aside, and turned to the fireplace where I was not surprised to see the head of my friend Jenny, floating within the flames.

"What's up?" I said quickly, hoping she hadn't seen anything. She was also my partner at The Bellsong, the shop where I worked, and she lived a couple doors down from me.

"Hi. A few people just came knocking at my door looking for you. They had the wrong address I guess, but I told them where to go," Jenny told me. "I hope you don't mind." _Strange, _I thought. I couldn't think of anyone who would be looking for me.

"Did they tell you who they were?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound anxious. Jenny shook her head, but grinned.

"No," she replied, her teeth flashing against her tan skin, "but I must say, the guy was extremely handsome. Two girls were with him."

I was definitely stumped.

"Well thanks, but I just have no idea who – " I was interrupted by a knock at the door. Jenny nodded and disappeared with another _pop. _Still wondering who in the world it could be, I proceeded to answer the door. My jaw dropped.

"Hello, Katie," Said Angelina Johnson. All I could do was gape like a fool at the three people standing before me: Angelina, Alicia Spinnet and Oliver Wood. I glanced at him and instantly averted his eyes. I felt as if someone had dumped a freezing cold bucket of water on me. _The_ Oliver Wood. The Oliver Wood that I hadn't seen since Hogwarts. The one I had crushed on for all of my teen years, the one who I had granted my virginity willingly to, only to never speak to him again.

Yeah. That Oliver Wood. Surprisingly enough, that little incident seemed to resemble my entire life right now.

"Hello, Katie... this is kind of weird standing here with you not saying anything," I head Alicia say. Suddenly I fell back into reality.

"Erm, sorry about that," I said hastily, feeling like a complete and total moron. "What are you doing here?"_ Nice job Kate, _I thought wryly. I was doing a great job at achieving the manners of shit.

"Well not that it's bad," I added quickly. I wasn't sure if that was a lie or not. I decided it was.

"We're paying you a surprise visit, of course," said Angelina, seemingly unaware of my discourtesy. I forced a smile and thought, not for the first time, _what the hell is wrong with me! _These were my friends that I hadn't seen in ages, yet all I could do was ask them why they were here and feel annoyed that my trip to the Den would be delayed, if not cancelled.

"Well – well it's wonderful to see you," I said blankly. Yup. Definitely the manners of shit. Much to my embarrassment and vexation, I noticed the three eying my outfit. Alicia's face split into a grin.

"Going somewhere?" She asked, though what she really meant was quite obvious: _Do you have a date or something? _

This time my smile was real; I couldn't help it.

"No, I am not going on a date, Alicia Spinnet," I said in an exasperated tone of voice. Angelina giggled.

"So you always dress like this, eh? The long-time tomboy Katie Bell now lives in a dress," she said jokingly. "It really doesn't look that bad though," she added on a more serious note.

"Thanks," I muttered, feeling rather embarrassed that my friends seemed to be evaluating me. I glanced at Oliver again, who still hadn't said anything. It looked as though he was finding his hands very interesting indeed. _He doesn't look that bad either, _I thought approvingly. That still didn't change what I felt towards him. And what I felt towards him was far, far from love. Probably closer to hatred on my love-hate bar. Probably _on _hatred.

"So...want to show us your apartment?" Said Angelina tentatively, as if sensing the shift in my mood.

"Uh..." I thought of my huge heap of dishes, dirty clothes, and overflowing garbage can – as well as the beer bottles and cigarettes that trashed the floor. What would they think of me when they saw the mess that was my life? My thoughts sped up and suddenly I blurted out, "well I just had a party so it's kind of messy right now..." What a lie. I had already lied to my friends twice within five minutes. Alicia waved her hand as if to discard the fact. "Really, Kate. Since when do we care about a little mess?" I gave an inward sigh. There wasn't exactly anything I could say to turn them out.

"Alright then..." I stepped aside and allowed them to pass me into the apartment, making sure to avoid eye contact with Oliver. I could understand why Alicia and Angelina might come. But why _him? _

I felt like dying after seeing the utterly shocked expressions on their faces at the sight of all the alcohol and cigarettes.

"What exactly did you do at this party?" Angelina wanted to know, stepping over a couple of bottles and seating herself at the small chair beside the couch.

"Made a mess," I said with a forced laugh, trying to keep things on a more humorous side.

"I see that," she said after a moment. Silently I thanked merlin that she had left it at that and carried myself to the couch, closely followed by Alicia and Oliver. We barely fit, and luckily Alicia sat between Oliver and me.

"What brings you three to Riverford?" I wanted to know – I also spoke quickly, because I was afraid of answering their questions. Finally Oliver spoke.

"Quidditch," he said simply, looking me in the eye. I confined the urge to shudder under his gaze and turned away.

"Puddlemere United is coming here to practice," Alicia informed me. "So that obviously explains why Angelina, Fred and Oliver are here. George and I just came along for the ride, I suppose."

My head jerked up.

"Fred and George are here too?" I loved the idea of seeing the jocular twins again. Recalling something else Alicia had said, I added to Angelina, "and you and Fred are on Puddlemere United? I didn't know that!" Angelina arched her eyebrows.

"You didn't? Hell Kates, where in the world have you been? I suppose you haven't heard about Alicia and George, either." I must have looked panicked, because Alicia put her arm around my shoulder and said, "no worries, hon. We understand you've been busy."

She had no idea.

"Well, what's the news?" I said with genuine curiosity. The smile on Alicia's face at that moment looked so incredibly happy and wonderful that I wanted to cry.

"George and I are engaged," she said cheerfully. I gaped at her. George and Alicia? _George _committing to marriage? Two of my best friends in the world. Engaged. I was absolutely speechless. Shaking my head, I managed to finally say, "Alicia...that's wonderful."

After a while the conversation – much to my dismay – turned to me.

"So Katie, have you been in any relationships since we last saw each other?" Angelina asked with a grin. I thought about lying, but decided it would be rather pointless to make up a fake boyfriend for myself.

This time I looked directly at Oliver.

"No," I said, stingily, "they all leave after warming my bed for a few hours."

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**Thank you** very, very much for reading this. I'm incredibly sorry it's so awful, I'm no writer you see. All of this was written on mere impulse, so you'll have to forgive me for my lack of creativity and skill. I'd greatly appreciate if you reviewed with any helpful comments, and unless everyone absolutely hates it, I'll be writing more soon. 


	2. Totally Tangled

**Beneath the Mask,** by Amadah

**Katie** - age 21.

**Angelina** - age 22

**Oliver** - age 24

**Alicia **- age 21

**Disclaimer**: J.K Rowling owns the who's and I own the what's and where's. Well, mostly.

**Go here to see pictures of things in story: **whisperling. net / mask (remember to take out the spaces.)

**CHAPTER TWO: Totally Tangled

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I felt the evil satisfaction as I noticed redness suffusing Oliver's face. I had hit home and it was clear to anyone in the room who I was insulting. Despite his obvious embarrassment, Oliver didn't look away from me.

"Katie!" Alicia and Angelina gasped in unison.

"That was a bit harsh, Kates," said Alicia warily. I could tell she was angry. I could tell all three of them were angry and surprised that I would say something like that. In fact, so was I. Angry and surprised, that is. Mad at Oliver for not surrendering to my glare and surprised that I had actually blurted that out. The words, _what the hell is wrong with me? _Popped into my head, as usual. Finally it was me who looked away in defeat, for which I mentally scolded myself. The moment of my wicked pleased-with-self mode was suddenly replaced with shameful guilt and my gaze wandered towards my feet.

"Sorry," I mumbled almost inaudibly, but I think he heard me because I was sure I heard a slight sigh escape his mouth. Angelina sighed more clearly and leaned against the back of her chair.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she said, looking pointedly at me. Much to my disgrace, I blushed and couldn't return her regarding stare.

"Why not?" I managed to ask. She shrugged.

"We should've told you we were coming. I'm so sorry, Kates. Maybe we should go – " she got to her feet. I felt as though the knot in my stomach had gotten totally tangled within itself and I was sure I was going to be sick – all because I had to be such a bitch.

Yeah. That was me. Katie Bell the major bitch.

I so terribly wanted to say something as Oliver and Alicia got up. All three of them seemed to be looking at me with these really strange – blank – looks that I couldn't understand, yet they caused an utter uneasiness inside my apartment. Half of me wanted them to just get out, and half of me – perhaps more then half – wanted them to stay, wanted to amend things; not only what I had said to hurt Oliver but just..everything. I wanted them to be my best friends again.

But even as my head raced with possible things to say, my mouth remained stubbornly shut as the three quietly exited my apartment as I sat there, merely staring after them at loss for words. I continued sitting there, hoping that the worn door knob would twist and re-open, hoping that they'd come back in and say "April fools!" or some such thing. But they didn't.

Of course, they didn't.

"I'm sorry," I said out loud. That was the first time I could ever remember talking to a door in my life.

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After drinking a couple beers and mentally yelling at myself for being such an idiot, I decided to follow my original plan of going to the Den. Maybe a little dancing would do me some good right now. I didn't bother reapplying makeup or anything; just retrieved my mask, slid it into my large blue-and-pink striped handbag (not very tasteful in my opinion, but it was the first thing I grabbed) and left behind my apartment and mess. I lived on the fifth floor and hiking down all those stairs was definitely not fun in high heels, but I was used to it. I knew I could just apparate there if I wanted, but I didn't feel like it. For some reason, I was drawn to rain like a magnet and couldn't resist a nice walk with water seemingly embracing my hair and face. It was the only time I truly felt alive. Happy, even. Suddenly I wasn't in the mood for dancing. Not the kind they did at the Den, anyway. I don't know what it was that made me do it. Perhaps the sudden appearance of Oliver, I don't know. But instead I turned around and headed towards the local park. Once I arrived there, I kicked off my shoes, tossed my bag aside and began to skip around like a little girl. I actually smiled to – for my own silliness, for the rain, for old memories. I twirled around, with my mouth catching the rain drops.

And I remembered.

"_Katie?" A voice said from behind me. I spun around in surprise, feeling completely embarrassed that someone had caught me, a fifteen-year-old Katie, dancing in the rain. I never danced in front of anyone. I felt partly relieved that it was just Oliver, but the fact that it was him also made me feel a bit more stupid._

"_You look like you're having fun," he said with his lop-sided grin. This time I smiled. _

"_Until I was interrupted." _

"_Sorry."_

"_It's not a problem."_ _He had his hands in his pockets_ _and his hair was flat from the rain. He was looking at me strangely, a look I had never seen before._

"_Is something up?" I asked wonderingly, thinking perhaps he was worrying about something. It took him a minute to answer._

"_No. Not really...," he said slowly. He seated himself on the bench beside the lake. We were at Hogwarts, me in my fifth year, Oliver in his seventh. _

"_I'll be leaving in a few days," he said. Ah. So he was thinking about his graduation. _

"_Are you excited?" I asked, sitting on the empty space next to him. He shrugged. _

"_I guess." We sat in silence for a moment, looking out over the lake. I didn't say anything, because I could tell he wasn't finished. It took a few minutes for him to continue._

"_There's someone I don't want to leave behind," he said, turning towards him. I looked at him._

"_Who?" Again, silence. He appeared as though he was considering his answer. His expression was very, very strange and I was beginning to feel a bit...suspicious. He took a deep breath._

"_I don't want to leave you, Kate," he told me quietly. I grinned._

"_And I'd be insulted if you did, Captain," I said jokingly, nudging his arm. But my smile faded as I saw his genuine serious expression. He was one of my best friends and usually I could guess what was going on. Not this time, though...Well actually I had an idea. But I couldn't bear to think of it. I wouldn't know what to do if Oliver returned my secret feelings for him. He sighed and put his palm on my cheek._

"_Uh..." I said, feeling rather embarrassed again. And very moronic. He stared into my eyes for what seemed like ages to me, but was most likely only a few seconds._

"_You have no idea how badly I wish I didn't have to leave you." His tone scared me. _

_It scared me a lot. He leaned slowly forward. I sat frozen to the bench, knowing what was about to happen and unable to move. I was stunned as his lips met mine gently. I closed my eyes feeling as if I was about to burst. Why was I so scared? This was supposed to be amazing. Oliver was kissing me. Me, Katie Bell. _

_I'm not sure how I unfroze – but once I did, I sprung to my feet, feeling absolutely terrified. _

_And I ran.

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_

Thank you **so much** to the following lovelies.

**Firenze** - my very first reviewer.

**Bearkat-chick **

**Kathy**

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This second chapter would not exist without you.


	3. Hateful Mondays

**Beneath the Mask,** by Amadah

**Katie -** age 21

**Angelina** - age 22

**Oliver** - age 24

**Alicia **- age 21

**Disclaimer**: All the cool characters, sadly, are not mine. But I'll take the blame for any brilliance in this story. : ) Okay, on a more serious note (kind of), Jenny, Wendy and Linda are my own, and I'm sure you Harry Potter junkies know which ones are from the books.

**Note: **I'm so very sorry this is such a short, boring chapter.It's kind of just a filler right now, I guess you could call it. I'll be working on the next one soon, if not right away.

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**CHAPTER THREE: Hateful Mondays**

The Bellsong, where I worked with Jenny and two other women, was merely a small, humble shop, selling coffee and an assortment of other things in addition. We weren't quite an antique shop, but close enough I supposed. We had a little section for making jewelry, so often people would come, grab some coffee and set to work on their earings and whatnot. We also sold old, curiously designed chairs and small couches, decorative items and stationary. Because the one-room-shop – well two rooms counting the kitchen – didn't have much room, it was very, very cluttered; this was part of The Bellsong's charm. At six o' clock on Monday morning, I stumbled in through the door, the little bell welcoming me gladsomely. I hated Mondays. Not only for the standard reason why everyone disliked them – they signaled the beginning of a working week – but along with that, I had to come extra early to open the shop, since Mondays just happened to be my turn. Jenny was lucky, I thought sourly as I began rearranging things with my wand. Her turn was Friday, the lucky dog. I pointed at one of the petite couches with my wand, muttered a spell under my breath and watched as the cushions straightened themselves. Satisfied, I turned the sign from "We're Closed, sorry " to "We're Open, C'mon in." I always found those lines really cheesy – I thought "Closed" and "Open" could work just fine, but not for Wendy, the owner, who insisted we keep it the way it was.

Though I hated walking here half asleep every Monday, the hour almost practically to myself was rather peaceful, as Jenny wouldn't be coming until around 7:00. There was no need to have all of us here this early in the morning, since only a couple people, if even that much, ever stopped by in the morning – and usually just to snatch up some coffee and then be on their way to work.

About a half hour later, with me almost asleep behind the counter, I heard the bell announcing visitors and almost fell off my chair. I guess "almost" was an understatement though. My chair pretty much went sliding away and I broke my fall with my hands, half of me still on the chair. Giggling at myself – I couldn't help it – I stood up to meet the customers.

"Need some help?" Came an amused voice. I looked up and my face split into a huge grin as I saw Fred standing before me.

"Oh my god!" I pushed the little cowboy-doors open that enclosed the workspace – another thing Wendy insisted on keeping, though I actually liked them -- and threw my arms around him. He laughed and returned the embrace.

"I haven't seen you in _forever."_ Then I wished I hadn't spoken, as I quickly remembered that it was precisely my doing which had caused that. To my major relief, Fred didn't seem to care.

"I had no idea you worked here," he said, looking around at the oddities we sold, "Angelina, Oliver and I heard there was good coffee here, and we thought we could use some before our quidditch drills." That was when I saw that Angelina and Oliver were, indeed, standing behind him. I forced a smile and gave a little wave at Angelina, desperately hoping she wasn't angry with me. I was put much to ease as she returned the smile.

"Hey," she greeted me.

"Hi Katie," I was surprised to hear Oliver say. I looked at him for a moment, wondering at his total lack of uneasiness around me suddenly, while I was filled with such tension. I smiled weakly at him, for that was all I could manage.

"Hi," I said, embarrassed that it had come out as almost a squeak. The three of them seated themselves upon the high stools at the mini bar.

"So what will it be?" I asked, assuming the air of a waitress.

"Surprise me," said Angelina.

"Me too," said Fred, leaning against the bar.

"Me three," Oliver added. I laughed and after they all held steaming mugs of our unique Bellsong coffee, I pulled over a stool and sat across from them. Though seeing Fred again had sent me into high spirits, I was feeling slightly shy. There was a moment of awkward silence – awkward for me, at least, and finally Angelina said, "So where _were_ you going yesterday, Kates?" God, I had hoped no one was going to bring up yesterday. I didn't want them to remind me how bitchy I had been.

"I was just...going to this thing..." I trailed off, knowing that I couldn't tell them about The Corrupted.

"Ah," said Angelina, but that was all she said, though I could tell my answer was a disappointing one. I glanced at Oliver, who was staring into his mug. I couldn't even begin to read the blank expression upon his face.

"Oh yeah," said Fred, "I go to 'these things' every day." Just then the little bell sounded off and Jenny stepped in.

"Wow," she said, pushing through the little cowboy-doors and slinging her purse on a hook, "three this early in the morning must be a record."

"I wouldn't be surprised," I said casually. I greatly wished she had waited a little longer to come. Then she saw Oliver and grinned at me. I knew what she was thinking – since she had pointed out to me yesterday that she found him extremely attractive. Grudgingly, I couldn't blame her. Oliver _was _good-looking. I saw Fred scan his watch, and then he got up and said, "we should probably be getting to practice. We need to be a little early, since it's our first time in Riverford and all." Rather regretfully, I bid them goodbye and offered to take their mugs into the tiny kitchen. When I came back out, Angelina and Fred were waiting outside, while Jenny was talking to Oliver. When she saw me come out, I noticed that she winked at him and then positioned herself behind the counter. Though I was filled with curiosity and even a little annoyance, I didn't ask what was going on.

"Bye, Katie," Oliver said rather stiffly.

"Bye." Then I pretended to be looking at an important piece of paper, when really it was just a scrap sheet full of my pointless doodles. I could feel his eyes on me as he didn't move, but I had absolutely not idea what else to say so I feigned obliviousness. A moment later, Jenny disappeared into the kitchen Oliver still hadn't taken a step to the door.

"Why do you hate me?" He wanted to know. I had dreaded him asking something like that.

"I...don't," I said slowly, looking up. And I realized that it was true. I didn't hate Oliver, not really. He sighed.

"Then what is it? Why are you so afraid of me?" Then he made a face and I thought maybe it was that of regret. But that comment had angered me.

"I am not _afraid _of you, Oliver Wood. Quidditch is waiting, and so are your friends," I said bitterly, looking away. But in truth, I was hurt and offended – and panicked, for it hadn't occurred to me that I was afraid of him. Puzzling over it even after he left, I realized that I just might be.

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This chapter **wouldn't have been written** if not for your reviews. Thank you so much to the following looovelies. 

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	4. Corrupted Jenny

**Beneath the Mask,** by Amadah

**Katie -** age 21

**Angelina** - age 22

**Oliver** - age 24

**Alicia **- age 21

**Disclaimer**: If you recognize the character, it's J.K Rowling's. Magda and Jenny mine.

**Note: **I hope this isn't too boring. There's not much dialogue in this chapter, for which I apologize. I'd appreciate any helpful comments – is everything moving too slowly? Too fast?

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**CHAPTER FOUR: Corrupted Jenny **

Angelina, Fred and Oliver came every morning that week before Quidditch drills, and with every day, my awkwardness around them began to ease slightly, though Oliver and I exchanged only a few words – usually an unenthusiastic greeting and a just as indifferent farewell. Alicia and George came a couple of the days as well, but usually they took advantage of the fact that they didn't have to really get up for anything but their hungry stomachs, so often they slept in. According to Fred, George had taken up photography – very unlike him, I thought – and had become sort of an unofficial photographer for Puddlemere United. Alicia traveled with him, seeing as they were engaged and all. Angelina explained that whenever they were in one place for a long period of time, Alicia got a small job somewhere to earn some extra money. While listening my long-time friends discuss everything they had been doing in life, not only did it make me feel utterly second-string compared to them, I realized that I was also jealous that they all had been traveling. Together. Without me.

Although I enjoyed the little morning visits at The Bellsong, I was extremely happy when Friday night came around. I felt like I hadn't been to the Den in ages and I was looking forward to a few hours just relaxing and having fun. Unlike with Angelina, Fred, Oliver, Alicia and George, I didn't feel aloof around all the familiar yet unknown masked faces at the Den.

On Friday evening I walked tiredly up the stairs to my apartment and was surprised to see that I had left my door unlocked – not muggle-locked, but magically locked. Muggle locks were almost completely useless in Riverford, as anyone could lift it easily with a simple spell that even the first-years at Hogwarts could learn. When I entered the room, I yelped in surprise to see Alicia and Angelina sitting on my couch. Then I laughed and covered my face, feeling like a fool.

"We thought we'd drop by," said Alicia, getting to her feet.

"Without Oliver," Angelina added pointedly, "but we wont be staying long. Just wanted to show you our surprise."

When I took a look around my apartment, I was stunned. It was _clean. _Clean had almost become a foreign concept to me, but now here I was standing in a clean apartment. I had been too lazy and so my friends did it for me. I couldn't determine whether to feel insulted or grateful, but decided on the latter.

"Just...wow," I said, unable to think of anything else.

"You can thank us later," said Alicia, grinning. Angelina looked at my curiously, however.

"We were kind of surprised that you still hadn't cleaned up from...your party," she said, looking me in the eye. I couldn't help but notice a slight emphasis on 'party.' I looked away, hoping desperately that she couldn't spot the panic in my eyes.

"Well...I've just been kind of busy doing, you know, work and stuff," I said, maybe a little too fast. I don't know why is was so important to me that my friends didn't know what I had really done. What I still did. _They're my friends_, I told myself sternly, but a second part argued, _that doesn't mean they have to know. _And so they left my apartment that evening, still unconscious to the reality of my life. I'm not sure what it was about any of this, but I found myself vowing that, should I go to the Den, I would not share my body tonight.

The Den was, amazingly, in the basement of a bakery. The bakery itself was owned by The Corrupted Queen, as we called her for fun. She knew very well what went on deep beneath her feet, and the bakery, though quite successful, had been opened specifically for the purpose it served: to hide the Den. Magda was the owner's name. She figured that to have innocence atop a cavern of particularly non-innocence would be very helpful in keeping it all hidden. So while little sweet cupcakes were being sold, very unbeknown to the customers, a secret society bustled below the tables at which they sat consuming the sweets of the bakery.

Tonight I was wearing a strapless dress with a turquoise and white floral print. There was small, short slit down the middle from the top, creating little puckers across the bust and it was completed with a flounced hem. I carried my mask within a medium-sized white handbag – just large enough that my mask could fit comfortably inside without being bent and ruined. As requested of all members, I entered the bakery through the back door, which led directly into the kitchen. What looked like a simple rug upon the floor was actually a trap door. I went to this, lifted it up and quietly stepped down onto the steps, allowing the door to close gently above me as I did.

"Lumos," I murmured, and my wand began to glow in the darkness. After sliding on my mask, I made my way down the circling stone stairway – it never ceased to amaze me how much work it must have taken to construct such a dazzling place. No doubt it had taken quite a bit of magic – and it was rumored that Magda's cousin was a Magical Architect. The climb down was a walk that took nearly ten minutes and I passed various masked people on their way out. Some of the masks I recognized, some of them I didn't. New people were always being invited to join, so naturally I wouldn't know them. Some members also had more then one mask – this way they could choose who they wanted to be each time they came.

I could hear the music even before I entered the huge main room, the Centrum. I remembered the firs time I came here – I had been completely breath-taken and awestruck. Colorful lights had been charmed to bounce off the walls and people wildly – a takeoff from Muggle disco balls. The best part of those lights, though, was that you could feel them – should one land on you, it would tickle. Because of this, often people would laugh for seemingly no reason at all. Looking up, I could see people walking around on top floors or leaning over the artistically-carved railings with a beer in hand, watching the action contentedly. Torches lined the walls, which ever seemed to remind me of the days at Hogwarts. A dais sat in the center of the first floor, where I was. Live music was always playing on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. The rest of the time, instruments played themselves. Out of sight, there were other rooms on all floors, some full of food and drink while others were meant simply for lounging. The music playing in the Centrum could be heard throughout the entire Den, I knew.

"Nox," I said, and my wand dimmed. I no longer needed its light in here.

Though the Den was highly decorated with various things – lights, moving paintings, sculptures – the most embellishing decoration of all was the people. Masks ranged anywhere from totally simple black things to huge ones that covered your whole head. Some of the outfits people wore were absolutely outrageous, while others were more simple, like mine.

I heard a step behind me and turned to see a woman about my age sliding on her mask. Her features were all too familiar.

"_Jenny?" _I gasped. She jumped.

"Who - who are you?" She stammered. I could hear the panic in her voice – and I didn't blame her; all the members usually remained completely anonymous to each other.

"It's Katie," I laughed.

"Holy _shit," _she replied, "you scared me big time." She had scared me, too.

"When the hell did _you _join The Corrupted?" She wanted to know as we proceeded to walk the rim of the dancing crowd. I shrugged.

"Two or three years ago...God, I can't remember at all," I retorted, making a face. It was true; I couldn't remember. It felt like a lifetime a go...

Jenny and I hung out for a while until we began to gravitate our separate ways. I found that it really excited me to know she was also a member. I hadn't realized how good it felt to do something fun with someone I actually _know._

"Ladies and chaps," came the familiar voice of Big Jake, our popular announcer, "a couple weeks ago we did that Muggle dance that someone suggested. Anyone want to try another one?" After noone called "aye," as was the common reply to a question like that in the Den, I did, and stepped up to the dais.

"Hello there, Domino," said Big Jake cheerfully. I grinned at his use of my Corrupted nickname. "And what would you like to suggest?"

"Cotton Eyed Joe," I told him. He laughed. "I know that one, it's fun." Then pointing his wand at his throat, he muttered "Sonorus," making his voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Cotton Eyed Joe it is! Domino here will lead it. Any gents out there know this one?"

It took a couple of minutes, but finally one guy stepped forward, who's mask I didn't recognize. It was cream colored with a pointed nose and little gray-and-white feathers popping from the top. The music started playing, and we began. Grasping each others hands, we stepped to the music – left over right, kick left foot, polka stepping backwards along with various other steps. My partner was extremely good and we laughed together as other people started filling the dance floor once more, trying to imitate our steps. It was nice to be rid of some of the dirty dancing, for once.

And all I could think of was how Oliver and I had loved this dance.

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**Thanks for reading**. :) If I got any of the spells wrong, please let me know. Oh, and the Den might seem really, really improbable which is why I just had to mention the Magical Architect and besides... it is a magical place, so hopefully it's kind of at least believable in the Harry Potter world! Thanks to: 

**Celi**

**Firenze**

**Karen Walker**

**Spexy**

**Katameran**


	5. Panic

**Beneath the Mask,** by Amadah

**Katie -** age 21

**Angelina** - age 22

**Oliver** - age 24

**Alicia **- age 21

**Disclaimer**: Yeah.

This chapter is mostly just a filler...sorry, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

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**CHAPTER FIVE: **Panic

Everything was starting to tear me up. All these sudden reminders of the memories I had been trying to forget these past years and simply being informed all I had missed while trying to run was seemingly starting to sink in, finally. I loved seeing my friends, so I guess I wasn't sure what it was that bothered me about all of this; maybe I wasn't bothered by anything. I don't know. I just had to get out, so on Saturday morning I went to my little neglected closet and, pushing through various hanging items such as my old Hogwarts robes, I retrieved my long-forgotten broomstick from its spot in the very back. Not surprisingly, it had gathered a thick coat of dust, being unused in over two years. As I wondered what Oliver and Angelina would think of me disregarding my broom for so long – that type of thing was unthinkable to such dedicated quidditch players – I managed to blow the majority of it away, and I held it up. It appeared to be a very worn, and perhaps even incapable of flight from being stored away for so long. Upon closer examination, a small inscription within the wood was visible. I gulped as I saw it; I had completely forgotten.

_KB + OW_

Bordering the letters was a heart.

So much for trying to escape the thoughts that kept trailing behind me, like an annoying little kid in need of attention. I sighed and, clad in white jeans, a simple grey shirt and a denim jacket, carried the broomstick down the multiple staircases of the apartment and outside into the cool spring air. It felt good to be getting fresh air for once. The scent of coffee mixed with dust – not exactly the most luscious combination – always floated about The Bellsong, my apartment was forever stinking of smoke, despite Angelina's and Alicia's attempt to clean it, and the Den could get pretty stuffy. Those were the three places I spent most of my time, and I always forgot how nice it was to just be outdoors and allow the sweetness of the air to refresh my nerves.

I had forgotten a lot.

Releasing a small sigh, I mounted the broom – no one gave me a second glance, since they saw this type of thing everyday – and kicked forcefully off the ground, my feet shoeless. I wanted to go slow, get used to it again. But right as I left the ground, it was as if something inside me exploded. How the bloody hell had I forgotten what it was like to fly? How could I have left my broomstick untouched for so long? I was appalled at myself for burying such a grand feeling for such a long time. It was as if entering the sky washed memory back into my limbs and all I wanted to do was go fast, shoot through the sky and leave my worries behind. So I did. Instead of dwelling on things in the past, I reveled in my memories. The good ones from Hogwarts, like Quidditch, talking about the teachers we hated and the ones we liked, the grand feasts that were always a bonus with the Weasley twins around, butterbeer...

For a while I just let my broom drift on the mellow wind, allowing it and my thoughts to take me away and ignoring the numbness that had taken over my toes from being so exposed. When I finally came back to my senses, I was surprised to find myself hovering over the park. But that surprise didn't compare at all when I heard someone say, "Katie?" I jumped and would've fallen from my broom, had a hand not grabbed my arm and straightened me. I took a quiet intake of breath; Oliver.

"How...?" Then I saw that he was atop his own broom as well.

"Have you been following me?" I asked accusingly, then wished I had spoken less harshly. He hadn't done anything wrong. Silently I nagged at myself for being so snappy, took a deep breath and urged my broom towards the ground, enjoying the feeling of grass surrounding my bare feet once more. I was sure I heard Oliver sigh as he followed close behind me.

"No, I have not been following you, Katie," he said quietly, and the tone of his voice was enough to make me look up, startled. He didn't appear too well – his hair was a mess, his face seemed haggard and tired and something in his eyes made my heart skip a beat. A sensation of horribleness and guilt sunk deep into the core of my stomach. He looked troubled, or upset. Was I the one inflicting this upon him? Suddenly realizing that he was watching as I stared, I blushed and hastily turned away to examine my finger nails, ragged from being bitten constantly.

"Sorry," I mumbled, unable to think of what else to say and feeling more the idiot with every passing second. Oliver touched the ground beside me and leaned his broom against the withered trunk of an aged maple tree.

"That's alright," he said in a more normal tone of voice, for which I was relieved, though something told me that it wasn't alright with him at all. Trying to look anywhere but at the gorgeous eyes of Oliver, I ambled over to a nearby bench and seated myself. As I continued to avert my eyes, I felt like I was going to throw up, and I hoped more then ever that it was simply a feeling, and that I wasn't actually going to be sick in front of Oliver – for I knew that the embarrassment would simply kill me. I stifled a gasp of surprise when I felt Oliver sit beside me on the bench, and if possible, the sickening feeling increased dramatically. It was as if my head was swimming in boiling hot water and something was dragging me down beneath the surface.

"Katie?" I heard a somewhat distant voice. It wasn't so far-sounding, however, that I couldn't tell how uneasy it was.

"Are you okay...?"

"I'm going to be sick," I heard another , very high-pitched voice say. A moment later, I realized it was my own. Sudden images of that rainy day when Oliver had kissed me flowed into my mind, the feeling of my legs running beneath me, retreating from my own fear...

Suddenly I shot to my feet. My thoughts weren't in order – I was panicked, I couldn't think clearly, but all I knew was that I wanted to, desperately, get away, like I had done before. I leapt forward, but before I could get any further, Oliver's hand shot out and grabbed my arm, causing me to spin around and face him. My heart was beating amazingly fast, and I was sure my chest would burst at any moment. I stared at him.

"Why do you do this?" He asked. There was something in his voice – pleading? His voice nudged me out of my tangled mind and slowly I began to return to my senses.

"Why do you run?"

I looked down, unable to return his gaze any longer. Silene. Then – "Katie?" He lifted my chin with his hand, forcing me to look back up, still gripping my arm tightly. His skin was warm and I was sure that I would melt, if my chest didn't explode first. I wanted him to release me, I wanted him to just go away...but he showed no sign of leaving, and his eyes remained on me.

"I – " but I stopped, realizing that I didn't know what to say, and wishing more then ever that I was better at communicating then this. I tried to pull away, but if anything, that caused his hold on my arm to stiffen.

"Are you alright? You're shaking." And he was right – I was trembling, possibly as an aftershock of my panic attack. Again, I attempted to pull away, harder this time. Finally I looked at him, glaring.

"Let me go," I said, my voice wavering slightly. But another part of me, a softer part, just wanted him to draw me close and hold me, just hold me. Finally I jerked my arm so viciously that he let go. We stared at one another for a moment, him looking more upset then before, me looking at him angrily. I turned away, and willing myself to walk away, rather then run, took almost all of my strength.

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To tell you the truth, if it hadn't been for the following review, I probably never would've written this chapter, short and nothing-filled though it is:

"_its killing me inside to know that you havn't posted. helo!i need this story to survive! ah! come on 5-10! woo! i kno u can do it... if u try ;) today would be nice. ciao!"_

Of course, I couldn't of done it without any of the reviews I have received. Thank you to the following, extremely kind people:

**Docums **

**Kit Merlot**

**Chibi-Chi**

**BobDole77 **


	6. Discovery

**Beneath the Mask,** by Amadah

**Katie -** age 21

**Angelina** - age 22

**Oliver** - age 24

**Alicia **- age 21

**Disclaimer**: you know it.

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**CHAPTER SIX: **Discovery

For a while I had many sleepless nights after the incident in the park. And during the rare moments where I fell into dreamland, they were always about Oliver. That was probably one of the reasons why I wasn't sleeping – just seeing Oliver's hurt face over and over again, as if on repetition, was a nightmare for me, and I constantly jerked into awareness. Guilt squeezed my stomach every morning that the gang came for coffee at The Bellsong, and exchanges of conversation were even scarcer between Oliver and me.

I only went to the Den one more night that week, and I was surprised to find that Cotton-Eyed Joe had become a favorite dance, and Big Jake was playing it every night now.

"Well look who it is!" Big Jake cried out through his microphone upon my entrance, "Domino, the trendsetter. I think we'll have her start the dance again." I looked up at him, smiling, and shook my head.

"Oh c'mon. I'll even make your old partner come out too, if he's here. You two looked as if you were made for each other!" I laughed again. Anyone who regularly came here were quite used to Big Jake's jokes, however lame they seemed at times. He was constantly shouting out things about the regulars and masked people he recognized – "they're a match made in heaven!" or "Please, take it outside, folks." It wasn't unusual in the least.

"You aren't giving me a choice, Jake!" I called over the crowd, but I really didn't care.

My partner from the other night joined me on the floor, and once again we started off the silly muggle dance. As we moved along the floor, others joined in.

"Why does he call you Domino?" Someone asked. It took me a moment to realize that it was my partner, and I couldn't remember if we had talked at all last time. I chuckled.

"I once made earrings out of those muggle dominos. The first time I came here, I was wearing them. The nickname kind of stuck, I guess." I could see his lips turn upwards in a grin. As we danced, I drifted into memories from the Den, and I couldn't help but notice how every single other man I had danced with here had never innocently asked me anything – ever. It always ended the same way, us ending up in someone's room, be it mine, his or just somewhere in the Den. Thinking about it made me discover how much that bothered me – and I truly appreciated performing this modest dance with a man that actually seemed nice.

In my apartment the following Saturday morning, I was awoken to the brisk sound of someone knocking. I was on my feet within the second, and started to the door. I stopped when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror – I was clad in nothing but a tank top and underwear. Hastily I slipped on a pair of jeans, and proceeded to answer the door as the knock came again. The word "hello" caught in my throat and I thought I was going to choke on it. Oliver. The awkward moment consisted of us looking at each other. I felt slightly uncomfortable as I noticed his eyes travel up and down my body.

"Is this a bad time?" He wanted to know. Still staring, I shook my head, nodded and shrugged. His mouth curved upwards into a lop-sided smile at my indecisive matter.

"Uhh. Well I just woke up," I managed to say.

"Sorry about that," he told me, "but we need to talk today. If you want me to leave so that you can eat breakfast or whatever, that's fine, but I'll be back." A mixture of excitement, anxiety and annoyance rushed through my blood as I considered this.

"Fine," I said simply, "come back in thirty minutes." And I closed the door, but I didn't move until I heard the sound of his footsteps safely die away. Suddenly I exploded unto a rush. Thirty minutes! I dashed into my room and started throwing shirts out of my closet, trying to find on that seemed suitable. I pulled out a solid blue, long-sleeved shirt, and slipped into it. I studied myself in the mirror, and thought maybe it was too plain. I killed off fifteen minutes digging through the pile of shirts I had just created until I came across another long-sleeved one, although this was on striped. I settled on that one, attacked me hair with a comb and decided to leave it down. Then I hurried to my jewelry case and looked at my options; simple little red earrings, broomstick earrings – the domino earrings. I pulled the domino earrings out, and wondered if they were too cheesy. I decided they weren't, and I wore them.

I spent the remaining fifteen minutes pacing back and forth as a result of my anxiety. I wondered how I would answer the door – if I answered right away, would he know that I was waiting desperately for him? Should I let him knock a few times so that he doesn't get that idea? Suddenly he was knocking. I forced myself to walk slowly to the door. I opened it, and there he was again.

"Ready?" He wanted to know. I nodded, and followed him outside. We walked wordlessly for a bit, and then he spoke.

"We're worried about you," he told me. I looked at my feet as we continue to stroll towards the direction of the covered bridge that passed over the river for which the town was named.

"Why?" He hesitated to answer.

"Alicia and Angelina told me about cleaning your apartment." I inhaled deeply, and could feel my palms beginning to sweat. I hoped he didn't notice as I whipped them on my jeans. When I didn't answer, he continued, "they found…a lot of bad stuff in there, Kate. A lot of it." Still, I remained silent, staring at my feet. We were on the bridge now.

"You were always terrible at lying." He stopped moving to turn towards me. "We're not stupid, you know. Telling us you just "had a party" and whatnot. We know it's yours." I met his eyes defiantly.

"What's wrong with having a drink every once in a while, Oliver? What's wrong with it?" He shook his head.

"Absolutely nothing. But that's not all they found, Katie. You have Grub?" My heart sank. I had forgotten about my store of the magical drug-like substance that was commonly known as Grub.

"Why the hell did you guys think you had the right to go looking through my apartment?" I yelled at him suddenly. A passerby eyed us curiously but I ignored them.

"You had no business going in there!"

"Katie, they're worried about you – I'm worried about you! We care about you and your safety, can't you see that?" I put my palms on his chest and shoved him backwards.

"If you cared you wouldn't trespass on what was mine!" I clenched my fists in anger – how could he do this to me? I knew if I didn't control myself, I'd hit him. He must've read my mind because he grabbed my wrists. I struggled to get my arms free.

"You're such a jackass!" I screamed, jerking my arms back. His grip was too tight.

"Katie, that stuff is destroying you! Do you have any idea what it does to people?" He yelled. I was too angry to realize that I'd never really heard him yell at anyone before. Part of my anger was due to shame, shame that he had caught me and shame that I was like this – and it felt like he was the one causing my expose myself. I had no wish to do that.

"It's making you crazy!" He yelled into my face. I stopped holding up my own weight and tried to sit on the ground, of hopes that it would make him release me, but he kept trying to drag me back onto my feet. I wouldn't let him.

"You're the one making me crazy!" I spat, "just leave me, Oliver! I was fine until you came to Riverford!" My voice was wavering and I was almost in tears, but still I remained oblivious to anything but the need to get away. Part of me knew he was right. All I wanted was to be better, but I didn't want him being the one to accuse of me – of anything. I was crying now.

"I'm trying to _help _you!" Oliver shouted. Frantically I began trying to pull away, but he pressed me against his chest and held me close to him. After a moment, I stopped fighting, and broke into violent sobs that sounded like a baby crying.

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Wow, thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews. You guys made me feel guilty, so I felt like I had to update.

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